Sacrament of Penance
by OnTheWildside
Summary: "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." (1 John 1:9) Pure PWP, sacrilege, and gratuitous smut.
1. Contrition

**I kind of dreamt this up one night and since then it's taken up my entire life. It was meant as a one-shot, but as I began to write, it grew into something much more. ****  
**

**I hate to do this, but because the nature of this fic is **_**highly **_**religious, I find it's necessary that I warn you all. There are a few events that are disrespectful to Catholic symbols and this entire story is full of **_**explicit**_** smut and language. If you are someone who is highly offended by Catholicism or sacrilege, I suggest you steer away from reading this.**

**For everyone who decides to proceed, I love you all and I hope you enjoy yourselves. I know I certainly did. **

* * *

"_Oh my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell. But most of all because I have offended you, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of your grace, to confess my sins, to do penance and to amend my life. Amen." She whispered, mostly to herself as she knelt by the altar, head bent in prayer. _

_"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."* The priest's words made her jump. She hadn't noticed that the chapel of the cathedral had slowly emptied. She wondered how long she had been there, engrossed in thought. "You needn't worry, my child. If you need to talk, you have only say the words. My door is always open."_

_She took a deep breath, looking down at her folded hands again. "I'd like to make a confession, then." _

_The priest nodded. "This way then, child." He walked into the confessional. She followed, shifting the curtain to enter her side of the box. "What is it, child?" _

_She made the sign of the cross before beginning. "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession." She took another deep breath, willing herself to speak. "I've been reconsidering my decision to take the habit." _

"_That's a rash decision, lass. What's brought this on?" _

"_Well… I've been weighing it heavily all week, Father. You see, I've met someone." She smirked to herself, despite the circumstances. To admit anymore would be putting her heart out on display. "More than just someone."_

_"Is it love?"_

_She thought it over. The Bible taught that love was between a man and a woman, _two _souls coming together as one. A divine commitment. Certainly not what she had now. Certainly not what she had just divulged herself in before her quiet prayer. "I'm not sure." _

_"You've had impure thoughts, then?" _

"_More than just thoughts, Father." She whispered. "I'm afraid I had a lapse in judgment. I lost my path to righteousness."_

"_People who conceal their sins will not prosper, but if they confess and turn from them, they will receive mercy."* He quoted with a sigh. "Confessional has no room for vague metaphors, child. If you seek true penance, you must be clear to show remorse." _

"_I indulged myself in all of the cardinal sins. Lust, envy, greed… Father, I committed a sin of the flesh." _

"_The first step to forgiveness is admitting." He prodded. _

_She thought it over, allowing herself to let out the words in one breath._ "_I had sex."_

* * *

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you, blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen." She whispered, her lips barely moving as she bent her head in prayer.

Her eyes shot open when she felt someone pass her, sitting in front of her in an empty pew. She glanced upward, losing her concentration. She was certain she had never seen them there before. She was supposed to be repenting her sins, but here she was, committing new ones.

_Lust_.

She couldn't help but hear them, whispering prayers in perfect unison. They were too engrossed in prayer to care that she was there.

She shook her head, deciding to ignore it, ignore them. Maybe after she finished her Our Father's she could slip out the door and find her mentor at the monastery.

"Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end, Amen." Her mouth moved fluidly as she thought the prayer, over and over in her head.

Sudden movement deterred her thoughts again. The men made the sign of the cross, kissing their thumbs afterward and the darker one tapped his cohort's shoulder before they got up to leave. Silently, they stood. The one with darker hair, the fierce pensive eyes, he was staring at her as he passed. He took one last leering look over his shoulder, causing her to blush, before they slipped out the door and into the foyer.

She sighed, heavily, letting out a few deep breaths as she calmed herself. She needed to repent again.

She spent a few more silent minutes, repeating the prayer of contrition in her mind a few times, twisting her rosary around her neck, fondling each ivory bead between two fingers before she was satisfied, rising to her feet.

Exiting the sanctuary of church, she spotted them, standing by the corner, smoking and talking quietly to each other. Of course, they where standing in her way. There was no avoiding them, not if she was to make it to the monastery. She clutched her jacket tightly around her shoulders, shuffling past them as quietly and quickly as she could.

"S'cuse me, miss?" One of them spoke, the lighter of the two. "Hope we didn't disturb yer prayers. We didn't mean ta interrupt, as it were."

"The church is an open sanctuary." She replied, looking past them longingly.

"Got somewhere ye need ta be then, aye?" The darker one asked.

She finally took the time to look at them. Really look at them. They were both very different, one tanner with lighter hair, more clean cut. The other was lighter skinned with darker hair. He was the one with the piercing blue eyes. He had an angular face with striking features. They also seemed very similar. They shared a set of tattoos; the Virgin Mary on the left sides of their necks. Perhaps they were related.

"Yes, actually."

"Oh, well then. Don't let us keep ye, lass." The light one said.

"Wha's yer name, álainn?" The other one insisted.

"Uh," she hesitated, looking between the two of them. They'd be the death of her, she just knew it. She could feel herself sinning again. "Emer. It's Emer."

"Beautiful name. S'fittin' fer such a beautiful girl." The light one smirked. He tossed his cigarette to the sidewalk, offering the girl his hand. "Name's Connor. This one's m'twin."

"Murphy." The other interjected, tossing his own cigarette butt and offering his hand as well. She looked back and forth between their hands, completely torn. Of course they were twins. They had a surreal connection, one that only came from a shared womb.

As if realizing they were confusing her, they pulled their hands back. "Can we walk ye where yer 'eaded, lass?" Connor said, just after clearing his throat.

"I'm just on the way to the monastery. It isn't far."

"Yer in the convent?" Murphy gasped.

Connor slaps his twin's arm, quieting him. "What 'e means is ye don' exactly look like a nun. Not one we've ever seen, aye?"

"That's because I'm not. Not yet, anyway. I'm still a postulant, I live in the convent. I still have a lot of work ahead of me before I can say my vows." She explained.

"Fuck." Murphy swore. "Hail Mary, full o' grace. I didn't mean ta -"

"It's okay, you're absolved." Emer chuckled.

"Don't ye 'ave yer own church? Ye know, at the convent?" Murphy asked. His brother slapped him in the back of the head.

Emer stifled a laugh. "Yes, but there's just something about this one. It's comforting. I come here to gather my thoughts." She spotted the time on the large town clock. "I really must be going, though."

"Well, our offer still stands ta take ye. S'not safe fer a lovely lass such as yerself ta be walking the streets alone. Wouldn't want anyone ta compromise yer virtue." Connor said, a tinge of sarcasm lacing his voice.

"Aye, we'll protect ye. Git ye dere safe an' sound." Murphy agreed.

She mulled the idea in her mind. It wasn't exactly appropriate to be roaming the streets of Ireland in the company of two gorgeous men. Then again, she was still young, not yet sworn to God. There was the Devil again, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. "Okay, then. But let's hurry."

"Thought ye'd say that." The dark twin smiled.

"I've never seen you two here before. You must have just moved here."

They exchanged a quick look before Connor replied. "We lived in America fer a while."

"Round ten years." Murphy nodded.

"Aye. We juss recently moved back."

"Oh." Was all she could come up with. "What brings you back?"

"Uh," Connor seemed to mull the answer over. "Work complications."

Emer merely nodded.

"So, ye always knew ye wanted ta be a nun, then?" The other brother asked.

"Not exactly." She said, shaking her head. "I wasn't always so devout. I had an epiphany of sorts, realized I had to make a few drastic changes in my life."

"Aye." They agreed in unison.

"Don't get us wrong, aye? We were raised in the Catholic church. Mass ev'ry Sunday, confessional on weekdays. We're 'bout as devout as they come." Murphy explained.

"Think what m'brudder's sayin' is dat we don't exactly understand how yer prepared ta give up all the... pleasures o' life." Connor added.

"Pleasures?" Emer asked.

Connor smirked to himself, instantly looking away, but Murphy caught her gaze, staring her down with those smoldering blue eyes. "Aye, pleasures."

The sound of his voice sent all the blood in her body boiling its way through her veins to her southern most parts. The three stopped in their tracks, only another block or so from the monastery.

"I 'ope ye don' think me a right arse fer sayin' so, but if takin' the vow is what yer plannin' on doin', I'd 'ope tha' ye've thought it all through." Connor said, trying to cut the tension.

"I've prayed long and hard." Emer admonished. "This isn't something I've taken lightly. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life. I'm not claiming to be perfect. I'm only trying to follow the path God set before me."

"Course not." Connor said. "Believe us, lass, when we say dat we understand."

"I'm not one ta judge. Sometimes the lort 'as plans fer us that not ev'ryone would call just and righteous. Dat doesn't mean 'e doesn't fergive us our transgressions." Murphy paused, clearing his throat. "I 'ope ye experienced all life 'as ta offer." He continued his bold pursuit, his eyes finally leaving hers to leer downward, slowly burning their way down her body, raking over her. "I'd 'ate fer ye ta die havin' any regrets."

She was able to catch her breath before they reached the gate outside of the convent. "I have plenty of regrets, things I'm not exactly proud of, that's why I'm here."

"Payin' fer yer sins?" Connor asked.

"I have a long road of penance ahead of me." She nodded.

"Well, we wouldn't want ta keep ye then, would we Murph'?"

"Aye." The brunet agreed. "But we know where ye live now."

"We'll definitely be seein' ye."

* * *

**Translations and References: **

_*1 John 1:9_

_*Proverbs 28:13_

_Álainn_ – beautiful


	2. Lust

After supper and evening chores, Emer usually went for nightly walks. The sun was setting and there was a slight chill in the air, but she found it exhilarating. She followed one of the paths to the garden behind the chapel. She stopped to marvel at a statue: Mary Magdalene; the patron saint of sinners. "The Penitent." A true symbol of repentance in the contemplative life of the convent.

"She gives y'a lot ta think 'bout, aye?"

"Jesus Christ!" Emer swore, gasping in shock. She turned to find Connor, one of the men from earlier this evening, leaning in the shadows, casually pressed against a tree.

"Didn't mean ta startle ye, lass. Was only lookin' ta talk t'ye a'gin." He chuckled, pushing himself off the tree and taking a few long steps forward.

"It couldn't have waited?" She sighed, still short on breath. "You shouldn't be here."

"Don' exactly fit in." He smirked.

"No, I mean I can get kicked out for being seen with you unannounced."

"Then let's make sure no one knows I'm 'ere." He shrugged, walking up beside her.

"Do you often do this? Prey on young women in dark parks?"

"Among other things." He chuckled, giving her a knowing look.

She ignored his eyes. "Where's your better half?"

"Better off not knowin' where I am." He shrugged. "It'll be our little secret."

She visibly shivered at his admission. For the moment, her curiosity outweighed her nervousness. "Why _are_ you here?"

"Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout ye." He shrugged. "'Bout what ye said earlier, I mean."

"What do you mean?"

"Ye said ye made a lot o' bad choices. Ye 'ad a lot o' regrets. But 'ere ye are; makin' the ultimate sacrifice."

"It's the only way to find absolution." She practically whispered.

He craned his neck, giving her a leering look. "What exactly is it that yer runnin' from, lass?"

"It's not important." She answered, hastily.

"Ye don' 'ave ta tell me. Was juss wonderin', is all. M'brudder an I… we've been thinkin' a lot 'bout ye."

"How's that?" She asked, quietly.

"'Bout yer decision. We wanted ta make sure y'were… well informed." He said, running his forefinger over his upper lip. 'Veritas', it read.

"Truth?" She asked quietly.

He smirked, looking at his hand, then used that same finger to trail down the plane of her cheek, along her jaw line. "Aye. An' I wouldn't lie ta ye." He continued, following the lines of her long, graceful neck and stopping at the modest neckline of her simple black dress. "Tá tú álainn sin. Ba mhaith liom ach a dteagmháil leat." He whispered, soft and slow into her ear, sending chills down her spine. "An mbeidh tú in iúl dom tú teagmháil?"

She bit her lower lip, closing her eyes and concentrating on his words, her other senses. She could smell him, clean like soap and metallic, almost like gunpowder. His body was giving off overwhelming heat. Suddenly, his hand was on her cheek and she her judgment became foggy. "Juss tell me no. Tell me no, an' I'll stop."

Her eyelids fluttered open and his lips were practically touching hers. She barely had time to think, breathing out the words, "Don't stop."

His lips attacked hers. He was warm and soft, yet persistent. He nudged her backwards until her back flushed with the pedestal base of the statue. Falling against the concrete, her mouth opened to protest, but Connor's tongue slipped between her lips, mingling with her own and silencing, not only her mouth, but her thoughts as well.

His hand braced against her throat, holding her head back as he kissed along her chin, down her neck, sucking lightly at her pale flesh. She was pliable beneath his hands. When he arrived at the hollow of her throat, he growled at the fabric hindering his journey. He hooked her knees, lifting her easily, half of her weight supported by the concrete behind her.

He reached under her skirt, pressing his palm against her panties before he hooked his thumbs under the seam and pulled them to the side. He moaned, finding her slit wet and wanton. "Bhí a fhios agam go raibh tú é seo." He moaned, gliding his fingers through her cunt. Her eyes rolled back and she cried out when he found her clit, letting his thumb linger there as his forefinger slid into her with easy. "Shh, shh, shhh." He warned, quieting her with a powerful kiss. "Gotta be quiet as a church mouse." He continued fingering her as he wrapped her legs around his waist with the other hand.

She gripped his forearms, holding herself up, rolling her hips onto his hand. "More." She panted. "I need more." Her hands slid up his arms, grazing down his stomach until she reached his jeans. She opened them quickly, urgent with need.

He pulled his hand away from her, removing his hard cock from his jeans. She bit her lip, looking down at him with wide, expectant eyes. "Yer sure ye wan' this?" Her response was to roll her hips, grinding herself shamelessly against his turgid length until he slid through her wetness, teasing her clit even more. She held her eyes closed, tight, relishing in the feeling.

He breathed against her neck, hands beside her cheeks as he let her fall onto him in one fluid motion. She gasped as he filled her, it had been so long. She opened her eyes, finding herself looking ashamedly at the Virgin Mary on Connor's neck. She grabbed his face, turning his neck the other way and forcing their lips together with a new urgency.

His hands grazed over her chest, his palm grazing over the rosary she had tucked under her dress. She shuddered at the faint reminder, pushing the thought to the far corners of her mind. He didn't seem to notice, continuing trailing his hands down her sides. "This fuckin' dress." He growled. They both knew they were pressed for time, disrobing would be out of the question. She wanted to badly for his teeth to be grazing her nipples as he filled her completely. His hands stopped at her legs, holding her up a little higher. He thrust against her, her thighs in a vice grip around his hips. He massaged the meat of her thighs with his hands as he held her against him.

The forbidden nature of the exhibitionism they indulged themselves in proved to be too much for them both. Connor's thumb found her clit, rubbing her most sensitive part in hard circles until she was shaking around him, milking his own orgasm from him as she contracted around his cock with her tight cunt.

One of his hands, the tattooed one, clamped over her mouth, silencing her as two habited women walked past them. Their bodies were covered by the statue, obstructing their view, as they walked beneath a breezeway from one wing of the convent to another.

"Shhh…" Connor chastised, smirking at their current situation. This wasn't the first time he was caught outside with his pants down. It was, however, quite a different setting from which he is used to. He was contemplating how close to condemnation they really were when the women entered a door, leaving them alone in the garden again.

He slowly removed his hand, letting her down gently. She fixed her skirt, smoothed her hair, as he fixed his jeans, tucking his cock away. She brushed her hair over her shoulders and felt her rosary tucked in the collar of her dress. She froze. "This shouldn't have happened." She whispered.

"S'a little late fer that, don' ye think?" He scoffed, more than upset with her brash tone.

"I was caught up in the moment! This can't happen again!" She cried out, trying to keep her voice down.

"The fuck 're ye gonna do? Pray it away? Ye fuckin' begged fer it, fuckin' begged fer m'cock!"

"How dare you!" She screamed. "I think its past time for you to go, Connor. I suggest you forget you ever met me." She stomped off in the direction of her room before he could even think of a reply.

* * *

**Translations: **

_Tá tú álainn sin. Ba mhaith liom ach a dteagmháil leat._ – You're so beautiful. I just want to touch you.

_An mbeidh tú in iúl dom tú teagmháil?_ – Will you let me touch you?

_Bhí a fhios agam go raibh tú é seo._ – I knew you wanted this.


	3. Envy

The next evening, after supper, Emer took her usual evening walk. Instead of walking around the garden, she decided to walk to the church.

Her mind was reeling, she had made a mistake. Penance was waiting for her. She needed to be alone with her thoughts. She kneeled at the altar, finding the chapel empty, quiet.

She couldn't say the words aloud, not yet. Confessional was off limits. She would find her own absolution with prayer.

Footsteps echoed in the empty halls behind her. She sighed, clutching her rosary close to her heart and trying to ignore the intrusion.

"S'nice night." A familiar voice mused. It sounded like honey and gravel.

"I think you and your brother have done enough damage in my life." She growled, glancing over her shoulder at him. "I think you should go."

"Now wait a minute." He protested. "S'not fair. Ye may be mad at Connor, but I aven't done anythin'."

"You both had the same idea." She accused.

"An'?" He growled, arms swaying angrily at his sides. "Don' act like yer innocent in dis, lass. Ye wanted it, too. I could tell."

"I'd watch what I was saying, if I were you." She glared, pushing herself up on the altar. It was apparent she wasn't going to be able to concentrate on chastity and repentance tonight. Not here.

"There's a reason ye didn' stop 'im last night. Yer juss as guilty." He said.

Angrily, she pushed past him, ready to leave the sanctuary and his pensive stare, but he grabbed her wrist, his hand reading 'Aequitas'. _Justice_, she thought. Without warning, she was spinning into his broad chest. "Let go of me!" She warned.

"I didn' say it was a bad thing, lass." He warned quietly.

He was warm beneath her hands, like his brother, but somehow different. She could smell him, the clean scent of man, smoke, and woodsy musk, almost spicy. She could feel it happening again, her resolve dissolving at his heated touch. She was ready to run, watching him lick his lips, staring her down. Then she spotted, just under his collar, a set of wooden beads. She lifted a dainty finger, trailing her nail along the Virgin Mary, forever printed on his neck, and along the collar of his shirt, settling on the vintage jewelry. Her fingers picked up the bead and the rest of the necklace followed; his rosary was now on display.

"I'm juss like you, girl. I'd never make ye do anythin' that'll damn ye ta 'ell. Everyone needs ta seek comfort some'ow."

She cut her eyes up at him, realizing now he was speaking to her. He sounded suspiciously like the Devil, just then.

"Let me take ye somewhere, aye? I promise, ye say the word an' I'll take ye back ta the convent. I would never force ye ta do anythin'." He sounded sincere. "Beo dainséarach." He smirked, watching her face change with indecision.

She watched him lick his lips again. He certainly was the Devil. Slowly, she made a quiet admission. "I trust you."

* * *

"Watch yer step." He warned, reaching behind him to grab her hand. "Juss a little further."

"What is all of this?" She asked, reluctantly taking his hand as he helped hoist her up.

"Use ta come 'ere when I was a kid." He explained. "When Connor an' I would argue. 'E'd never find me." He crossed the floor with his long gait and flicked a match, lighting a lantern on the floor, illuminating the space.

She blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the light. "A hayloft?"

He had brought her to a hayloft.

"Aye." He nodded. On the ground, beneath the lantern, was a large red blanket, laid out. "Family farm's not far from 'ere."

"And Connor?"

"'E wont be lookin' fer me. Not 'ere, anyway."

She looked around. Piled up behind the blanket, against the barn's far wall, stacks of hay. There was a slight window between the piles. The moonlight over the moors shown in, allowing a bluer tinged light to gleam on her face as she took in the scene. She walked up to the window, looking out at the rolling hills in the field outside. She felt his presence behind her without looking. "Does that mean that the both of you are fighting?"

"Aye." He said quietly. His voice so close, his breath moved a stray wisp of hair. "O'er you."

"Me?" She asked, clearly taken aback by his admission. She turned to face him.

"Aye. We seemed to 'ave a difference o' opinion when it comes to boundaries."

"I don't believe I understand…"

"We 'ad decided, after we took ye ta the convent, that'd it'd be best if we both left y'alone. Ye seemed ta 'ave a good concept o' what ye wanted an' we put the idea out dere… If ye changed yer mind…"

"And then Connor showed up."

"I saw ye first." Murphy muttered.

"It isn't a contest." She hissed. "I'm not some prize to be claimed. Yesterday, I had my entire life planned, I knew where I was going. I was ready to give myself to God. Then you and your brother showed up and just ruined everything."

"Less not ferget it takes two ta tango, as it were." He smirked, triumphantly. "If'n ye'd know fer sure ye were gonna take the sacred vow, ye wouldn't 'ave done anythin' with Connor lass night."

He was right. Her own guilty conscience was clouding her judgment. She was placing blame elsewhere when she really needed to take a good look at herself.

"Ye've nothin' ta be ashamed o' lass. Ye've done nothin' wrong. Ye 'aven't even taken yer vows, yet. Yer still a free woman." He bravely reached out his forefinger, the tattooed one, tracing her jaw and lifting her chin. "Wid needs." He whispered, touching his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. "Ba mhaith liom buíochas a grá agat freisin, más mian leat in iúl dom. Lig dom a thaispeáint duit cad is féidir leis an deartháir níos fearr a dhéanamh." He leaned forward to kiss her nose, but she had other plans, leaning up on her toes and forcing their lips together. He grabbed her face in both hands, holding her in place.

She moaned into his mouth the moment he pulled away. "Is that a yes, den?"

She considered it, biting her lip and nodding. "Please. Make me forget."

Her pleading eliciting a growl from Murphy, and he bit her lower lip, pulling her toward him. He walked them backwards until his heel tapped the lantern, nearly tipping it. He sank down to his knees, pulling her down behind him, their lips still connected. He leaned into her. She fell back on her hands. Murphy was able to slip his arms around her waist, grabbing her zipper and pulling it down the length of her back until her dress fell open.

Murphy slipped the panels of her dress down her shoulders, suddenly more gentle and cautious with his movements. It was as if he had just realized that she was fragile, afraid of breaking her. His large, strong hand dominated her, tilting her chin up, exposing the pure white flesh of her neck to him. He kissed her jaw, working his way down, suckling deeply and causing her to groan in frustration.

She suddenly felt the desire to touch his skin, needing desperately to feel it against hers, a reminder that she wasn't the only one sinning in this moment. If she was going down, someone else had to be condemned with her. She gripped the sides of his coat, slipping it over his shoulders. He broke away to allow her to strip his top half. When the coat disappeared, she gripped the bottom of his black shirt, bunching it in her hands, pulling it up and barely breaking contact enough to discard it on the ground beside them. Her fingernails found his shoulders, digging into his flesh as he peeled her dress down.

He continued his descent down her chest, finally pulling the top of her dress down to expose her full breasts, nipples already hard from arousal. He growled at the sight, not being able to control himself. He used his teeth and tongue to tease at them, working around the crucifix that lay between her breasts. She whimpered, a beautiful sound, before biting into his shoulder. She noticed how close she was to the Mother Mary and abruptly turned her head.

He pulled away, staring at her with wild lust in his eyes and a wicked grin. He pushed himself up, onto his knees and began undoing his pants, wiggling his body just so he could kick off his boots and pants awkwardly. She couldn't help but notice the cross tattooed on his forearm. He kneeled before her, naked, only his rosary dangling from his neck. She looked at the necklace, dangling between them. When he realized what she was looking at, he lifted the necklace over his head. He took both of her hands in his. "Ye still trust me?"

"Yes."

He kissed her knuckles, lovingly, before slipping the necklace over her wrists. He wound it, layering it a few times until it was tight, the beads barely digging into her ivory skin. His fingers ghosted their way up her arms until he reached her neck, latching a finger under her own rosary and pulling it over her head, pulling it free from her hair. He trailed the crucifix over her breasts, lightly tracing her light pink nipples, watching them twitch from the contact. He then took the rosary and placed it lovingly on top of the lantern, hanging it from the handle at the top.

He took her bound wrists, placing them over her head, kissing her gently on the lips again. She moaned into the kiss, writhing beneath him. He chuckled to himself, feeling her hip push against his hard cock. He rocked himself back on his heels, grabbing her dress and pulling it over her thighs until it pooled at her ankles. He knelt back some more, tugging the dress over her shoe-clad feet before tossing the shoes as well.

She was a vision, laying there, arching and keening towards him like a wanton thing, her hands tied above her head, the alabaster curves beneath that plain black dress all out for display.

He spread her legs apart, bending them at the knees and took a step back to admire his work for a moment. He hummed to himself, gratuitously, biting his lower lip before climbing over her, kissing up the length of one of her legs until he found her hot core, wet and warm and waiting. He kissed the top of her mound through her white cotton panties, murmuring to himself at her scent. The vibrations gave her shivers and she wiggled beneath him. He ran his fingers over the crotch of her underwear before he pulled them to the side. He blew hot air on her core, causing her back to arch, before he dove in, swirling small figure eights and deliberate circles around her tight bundle of nerves.

Her hands flew forward in unison, clutching tightly in Murphy's dark hair, holding him in place as she squirmed beneath him. Murphy grumbled in frustration as she fought him, digging his fingers into her hips to hold her still. The vibrations of his voice only heightened the pressure between her legs and caused her body to rock more. He pursed his lips and sucked hard on her clit before grinding his tongue into her with more force. She made the most beautiful sound, kin to squealing, as her toes curled and she unraveled beneath him.

He licked his lips playfully as she down at him, releasing her death grip on his hair. "Blas tú cosúil le neamh."

"Murphy, please." She whimpered.

His cock twitched at the sound of her whimpering need. He grabbed at her, easily flipping her tiny body so she lay on her stomach and lifted her hips so her ass was in the air and he tugged her panties down until they caught at the joint of her knees. Tired of waiting, he positioned himself behind her, taking his length in his hands and running it down her slit, swirling the head of his hard cock around her clit before finding her entrance and easing himself in, painfully slow.

She was wet, deliciously warm, and dangerously tight. Even better than he imagined.

He pulled out, slowly at first, then thrust his hips back in. She thrust backwards, meeting him, needing this just as much. He found a pace with his movements, gripping her agile little hips and pulling her back onto him a few more time before he leaned into her back, biting at her neck and shoulders. She fought to hold herself up on her elbows, finding it difficult with her wrists clasped together. He reached around her stomach and grasped her clit in two fingers, pumping it in time with his thrusts. "Oh, God." She whimpered, hanging her head in defeat.

"Níl mé Dia, ach tá tú aingeal." He whispered. His teeth bit into the sensitive flesh of her earlobe as his hand trailed over her hip, prying her ass cheeks apart. He pressed his thumb against her tighter whole and, to his surprise, she pushed back, causing him to plunge in further. He leaned back up, forcing her head down with a hand to the back of her throat. His other arm was wrapped around her stomach, bending her body into his as he pumped his hot seed into her. It was all too much, the sensations overwhelming her until she began to unraveling, muttering his name and squeezing his cock with the fevered contractions of her tight cunt.

He managed to pull himself away from her, her little body collapsing without his support. He collapsed beside her and they both struggled to catch their breath.

Lazily, Emer rolled her eyes open, noticing all too quickly that Christ, hanging from the crucifix binding her hands, was staring directly at her, the tears of blood being shed for her innocence. She jerked her arms, finding the strand of beads too resistant for her to break free. "Murphy! Murphy, get it off!" She screamed, suddenly frantic.

"All right, 'old still!" He instructed, looking concerned. "I'll git it, ye juss gotta calm down, girl."

"Murphy, please!" She began to cry, giving him her arms.

Lovingly, carefully, he unwrapped the beads from her hands. He placed the rosary back over his own head and gently rubbed her wrists, trying to knead the marks the beads had left behind from her flesh. "Y'alright, lass?" He looked up, catching her eye. One look at her face, full of fear and anguish, he knew the answer. "I'll take ye back. Less git dressed."

* * *

**Translations: **

_Beo dainséarach._ – Live dangerously

_Ba mhaith liom buíochas a grá agat freisin, más mian leat in iúl dom. Lig dom a thaispeáint duit cad is féidir leis an deartháir níos fearr a dhéanamh._ - I'd like to love you too, if you would let me. Let me show you what the better brother can do.

_Blas tú cosúil le neamh._ – You taste like heaven.

_Níl mé Dia, ach tá tú aingeal_. – I'm not God, but you certainly are an angel.


	4. Greed

Emer spent the next few days locked in her room at the convent, only leaving for mass, prayer, and meals. She was scouring the scripture, trying to find answers, absolution. Everything she found in the _Holy Bible_ was clear, iron tight.

One passage in particular stabbed her straight in the heart. "When you follow the desires of your sinful nature, the results are very clear: sexual immorality, impurity, lustful pleasures, idolatry, sorcery, hostility, quarreling, jealousy, outbursts of anger, selfish ambition, dissension, division, envy, drunkenness, wild parties, and other sins like these. Let me tell you again, as I have before, that anyone living that sort of life will not inherit the Kingdom of God."*

Still, inside of her, Emer was convinced she had done nothing wrong.

Murphy hadn't helped matters, whispering promises in her ears as they walked back to the convent. He told her they had done nothing wrong. If they were condemned for their actions, he would gladly rot in hell beside her. His impassioned promises of devotion only made her more nervous.

He seemed to be so sure, so self aware, though. Maybe the answers she sought could not be found in the word, maybe she needed to seek out the twins.

The next morning she woke extra early, determined to sneak out to hurry to mass at the church again. Hopefully, they would be there before the monsignor arrived, like usual.

She ran to the cathedral. She found the church empty. She took the opportunity to say a few prayers of contrition before she decided it was nigh time to go before she missed breakfast. She had barely stood and turned around before she saw the twins looming behind her, whispering in hushed tones in what seemed to be another language.

Murphy growled something angrily, pushing Connor out of the shadows and into the light. "Go on."

"We been comin' 'ere every mornin', 'opin ta see ye. We didn't wan' ta push ye more than we already 'ave." Connor explained. Murphy cleared his throat and they shared another look before Connor continued. "I wanted t'apologize fer what I said. What I did ta ye. T'was wrong o' me. I'm truly sorry."

She stood, open-mouthed, in her tracks before she worked up the courage to speak. "It's okay. It wasn't only you. I think I should apologize as well."

Connor took a bold step forward, infringing on her personal space. "No, lass. We knew ye'd given yer 'eart ta the lort. We shouldn' 'ave even tried."

She bit her lower lip, looking up at the blond through her lashes. "I'm not so sure what you did was wrong anymore. I find myself very confused."

"But ye came 'ere anyway." Connor smirked.

"I was hoping we could talk some more." She said, looking to Murphy. "What you said the other night – you meant it?"

"Every fuckin' word." He said with conviction. He then looked to the crucifix behind the pulpit and made the sign of the cross. "It'd be worth it."

Connor confusedly looked between the two, then locked eyes with his twin.

"We kin go somewhere a little more private, if'n ye still wanted ta talk, lass. Whatever ye need." Murphy said.

"Actually," She began, letting out a deep breath, "I'm tired of talking." She blushed at her admission, being uncharacteristically forthcoming. The look on her face said it all.

Connor emitted a noise between a growl and a moan. He ventured forward a step, turning her nimbly and pressing a firm hand to the small of her back, pushing her up the stairs of the altar and urging her through the door behind the confessional, leading to a short hallway with three oak doors. Murphy wasn't far behind.

Connor pushed her forward, picking one at random, opening the door and ushering Emer and his twin in side, shutting and locking the door behind him. It appeared to be an office of some sort. There was a couch in the room and one leather chair. It might have been a room for counseling. "We probably don' 'ave long. Still dark, but the father usually isn't far behind us."

Emer suddenly felt trapped, looking between each of the MacManus twins, feeling a lot like prey. "Are we all –" She began, not exactly sure how to word what she was thinking.

"S'not the first time we've done this." Connor admitted. "Though, it is the first time we 'ad ta do it in a cathedral." He chuckled.

"Oh." Emer muttered, nervously.

"That's not ta say that we always felt the same way." Murphy interjected. "Yer special."

"Aye." Connor nodded. "But if yer 'avein' second thoughts…"

"We'll go slow." Murphy pleaded.

"Ye tell us ta stop if ye need ta."

"I don't want to." She said calmly.

Murphy walked over to her, reaching out a hand, motioning to take her wrist, then pulled away. "We didn't mean ta make ye feel uncomfortable." He said, coolly.

"No." She protested, grabbing his hand. "I mean, I don't want to stop."

That was all Emer needed to say, Murphy stepped forward, closing his mouth over hers. Connor began to strip behind them as Murphy began to fumble with the buttons of Emer's blouse, working them open to reveal nothing underneath. He groaned in the back of his throat, grazing his calloused palms over her aching breasts, causing her nipples to harden into buds. She broke the kiss, only to remove her rosary, delicately tracing the beads before tossing the necklace aside. She arched towards Murphy's touch, finding his lips with hers again.

Suddenly, Connor was behind her. She was bending to their will, her ass grinding against Connor's groin and her breasts in Murphy's capable hands. She felt hands, Connor's, wrap around her hips as he nuzzled her neck, sucking the sensitive skin his brother had uncovered. His fingers playing with the button at the front of her skirt, releasing it until her skirt fell at her feet. His hands stayed on her hips, pulling her back towards him.

Emer whimpered as Connor's hand sank into her panties, his knuckles grazing her clit. She bucked hard, clawing at Murphy's shoulders, pushing his coat to the floor and biting his lower lip as her body bowed into the lighter of the two.

Murphy pulled away, tossing his shirt over his head. Then he leaned in, licking down Emer's neck. His lips were soft at her collarbone, gently kissing a path down her chest. His lips found a light pink nipple, suckling hard, nursing from her. She keened towards his touch.

Connor growled in her ear, nipping her ear lobe. He grabbed her hip with one hand, pulling her possessively towards him as he continued to torture her slowly with his hands. He ground his erection against her ass. Emer turned towards his, swallowing his growls with her sweet kiss.

The brunet fell to his knees in front of Emer, continuing his thorough ravishing of her breasts, his hands holding her shoulders in place as Connor's hand picked up speed. Emer whimpered into the blond's mouth as she came, shaking violently as the twins held her up, steadying her.

"Got her?" Murphy asked, his voice was liquid velvet.

"Aye." The blond muttered, removing his hands from her panties. He held her up as Murphy pulled her panties down her legs, helping her step out of her clothes before he got to his feet. Murphy looked up, exchanging a look with his brother. The dark twin sat back, kicking off his boots and wiggling out of his jeans until he was naked on the floor.

He nodded at Connor and he passed Emer off, encouraging her to straddle Murphy's thighs. The brunet found her hips, guiding her until his cock found the entrance to her tight cunt with a low moan. She gasped as he filled her, stilling herself, giving them time to adjust.

Behind them, Connor undressed the rest of the way, watching as Emer sank down on his brother's hard cock. Murphy adjusted her, crossing her ankles by lifting her lithe little legs. His hands trailed over her back, tangling in her hair and pulling her mouth down to his. "Ach scíth a ligean." He purred as Connor sank to his knees behind the pair. He held onto her bare neck, rolling his hips and plunging into her.

She felt moisture roll between the peaks of her bare ass. Spit. Connor's spit. She nuzzled her face into Murphy's neck, rubbing her nose against the Virgin Mary as Connor slipped an arm around her middle, lining his cock up with her tighter hole, dipping himself in slowly. Emer screamed.

She felt herself tearing, the searing pain as they stretched her. They were both inside of her, the sensation was not altogether unpleasant. Murphy kissed her cheek, pushing up with his hips as he released her neck. She sat up, pushing against Connor, completely full. She began to move, they all began to move. Connor was fucking her ass, violently pulling at her hips and pumping into her as Murphy held her thigh and lower back, rolling her onto him, back and forth.

She needed this, the violence, the pain. The penance. She needed to feel like what she was indulging herself in was a punishment.

She held herself up, hands on the dark twin's chest, relishing in the sensation. She looked down, seeing the entanglement of limbs, four arms encompassing her. Two bared the mark of the cross.

She felt herself begin to writhe, her insides fluttering, strangling both cocks that filled her. "Lig sé dul go léir. Tar dom." Murphy urged. He lifted up on his knees, pushing into her, hard with a loud cry, exploding inside of her.

"Lig dom a bhraitheann tú, cailín." Connor roared behind her. He was able to fuck himself into her a few more violent times, pumping his hips through her orgasm, until her followed close behind.

The were sex-sated. Relaxed and, oddly, peaceful.

* * *

**Translations and References: **

* _Galatians 5:19-21 _

_Ach scíth a ligean. – _Just relax.

_Lig sé dul go léir. Tar dom._ - Let it all go. Come for me.

_Lig dom a bhraitheann tú, cailín._ - Let me feel you, girl.


	5. Absolution

The three left the back room, entering the chapel once more, fully clothed. Already, there were a few people sitting on pews, interspersed through out the room, waiting for confessional. Emer could hear the quiet whispers in the booth a few feet to her left.

"I'm going to wait my turn." She whispered, catching the boys attention.

"I thought we already –" Connor began to protest, but he was cut off by his darker brother.

"We'll be outside waitin'." Together, the brothers walked in unison down the center aisle and out the door, giving her one last look before exiting.

Emer kneeled at the altar, at the Virgin's feet and began to pray. She stayed there, on her knees, until every last sinner left the sacred heart of the church.

* * *

"You know how the church feels about carnal sins, lass." The priest sighed. "If you can consecrate yourself, take your vows and remain intact here after, you need to decide that for yourself. I suggest you think heavily on this decision. It isn't something we take lightly. Read the scripture and pray on it, child." The priest insisted. "Perhaps you need more time."

"You mean, quit my studies?"

"It might be helpful if you pull yourself away. Some people need life experiences before they chose to make a commitment to God. If it truly is your calling, you'll come back." He said, sounding assured. "As for penance, I recommend five Hail Mary's and five Our Father's on top of the contrition prayer you've already said. I believe you're truly sorry… but if you are to continue with your training, this cannot happen again."

"I understand, Father." She sighed, instinctively touching her neck to find it bare. She had left her rosary behind her. "Could I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"Is punishment a path to forgiveness?" Emer asked.

"Punishing yourself isn't the answer. That's for Christ to decide. If you aren't absolved, you'll find more than enough punishment in the afterlife." He warned. "Penance isn't an easy task, child. It's something you have to work toward daily. You wake up a sinner and work, every day, toward your salvation. You have to admit that you are a sinner and need a savior. You have to abandon self-effort and realize that you can't be saved by your own efforts. You have to accept Christ's payments for your sins and acknowledge him as your personal savior."

"I understand, Father, but what do you do when you feel like what you're doing isn't really a sin."

"You feel?" He chuckled. "Your soul gives you feelings. Happiness, guilt. Right, wrong. It's how the Lord speaks to us. You thought your answers would be here. You thought you needed to give yourself over, marry the Lord. You entered the convent of your own free will. You thought God brought you here? Is it so hard to believe that this was his plan all along?"

"To walk away from him?"

"Child, you wouldn't be turning your back on God." She could hear the smile in his tone. "You'd be listening to your heart."

"Thank you, Father. You've given me a lot to think about."

He waited a moment before he continued. "I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord."

"Thanks be to God."

* * *

She exited the church with a newfound sense of self-assuredness. She trusted herself, knew who she wanted to be, and knew what she wanted. She may not be sure of her feelings, but she knew she had a lot of room for exploration. Wanting something so purely, so whole-heartedly couldn't be a bad thing, not in the eyes of the Lord.

"'Ave a good chat, den?" Connor laughed, watching the bounce in her step as she left the holy building, smiling.

"I did." She beamed. "He told me to follow my heart."

"And where exactly does that take ye, lass?" Murphy chuckled.

She smiled, proudly, looking between the two of them. "It leads me right here."


End file.
